


(Not) A Catch

by prydon



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Emotional hurt-comfort...ish, Juno is soft and Nureyev loves him, Other, Recovery, Weight Gain, not the kinky kind but the recovery-from-depression kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prydon/pseuds/prydon
Summary: He emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Nureyev…I think I need new clothes.”Nureyev’s eyes lit up as soon as he said it. “Oh, Juno, those are words I never thought I’d hear. You’re absolutely right. All your old clothes are so tasteless and full of holes. I’d be happy to pick out some new outfits-”Juno cleared his throat. “That’s not why.”Nureyev frowned. “What do you mean?”“I need new clothes because none of mine fit anymore.”
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 30
Kudos: 229





	(Not) A Catch

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this a couple months ago and held off on posting it until now bc I didn't know if anyone would be interested in reading it, but what the hell. Might as well!
> 
> After writing a throwaway line in a past fic about Juno gaining weight as part of recovery, I decided I wanted to write something more centered on that subject- in part inspired by the character Diane's storyline in Bojack Horseman. Hers was one of the first times I'd ever seen a series recognize weight gain being a side effect of some antidepressants and that mental health is way more important than being thin.
> 
> The conclusion of this fic is 100% positive but Juno does experience some internalized fatphobia/disordered eating-type feelings throughout it so if that might be triggering to you, please click away!! Also CWs for references to depression, past alcoholism, and past abuse.

Juno Steel felt…happy.

It was such an unfamiliar feeling that it almost scared him. Things couldn’t go on like this forever, right? He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt like this. It must have been decades ago, back when he’d first joined the HCPD. Before Ben died. Before everything went wrong with Diamond.

It couldn’t last, could it? Nonetheless, it felt like it would. He felt safe and secure in his relationship with Nureyev, and like the other members of their little family loved him. He felt like he could live like this forever. Feel like this forever.

The antidepressants that Vespa had prescribed him didn’t hurt, nor did things like eating regular meals and having healthy sleeping hours. In years past there had been entire weeks where he’d barely sleep more than two hours a night, and whiskey was his only source of sustenance. He felt so much healthier now, his brain no longer foggy from constant exhaustion and intoxication. He couldn’t believe he’d survived that way for so long, but he was relieved that it was over, and determined to never go back to that state again.

Then this morning arrived, and he realized he couldn’t button his jeans.

They were the same pair he’d worn a million times before, to the point that they were severely patched and frayed. Nureyev kept threatening to throw them out, but he’d insisted on keeping them, seeing as they were really his only pants that weren’t sweats or pajama bottoms. He’d had them for years and they’d always fit fine, even too loosely sometimes, and…now he couldn’t button them.

For a moment several ridiculous possibilities ran through his mind, like that they might have shrunk in the wash- despite never having done so through years and years of repeated washes- or that the button had somehow simply stopped functioning.

When he paused and looked at himself in the mirror, however, he realized the truth of the matter. It was something he avoided doing, generally- looking in mirrors. It was painful to see a decrepit, sad version of his brother’s face staring back at him. He didn’t look so decrepit and sad anymore, but there were other differences too: his face looked softer somehow, like someone had taken sandpaper to the hard edges of his jawline and cheekbones and smoothed them down.

The changes didn’t stop at his face, either. As he studied himself, he was surprised how different he looked, standing there in his tank top and unbuttoned jeans, from the last time he’d taken a proper look in the mirror. Everything about him was softer. His tank had ridden up slightly over his belly, the fabric stretched more taut than it used to.

Oh.

That was why his pants wouldn’t fit. They hadn’t changed. He had.

He suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. How had he not noticed? Vespa had even warned him that a side effect of the meds he was taking was increase in appetite and weight gain, but he hadn’t been paying much attention when she’d rattled off the list. It didn’t help that he’d always had a slow metabolism, always been the bigger twin. It hadn’t been very noticeable when they were kids since there often wasn’t enough money for food and Sarah loved to withhold it as punishment, or in his twenties when he’d lived off coffee, booze and pain pills, but now…of course now that he was actually eating like a normal human, he’d put on weight. It was what his body naturally wanted to do.

He didn’t have to like it, though.

His face burning hot with embarrassment, he struggled out of the jeans and put on a pair of sweats instead, thankful that he was enough of a mess that he doubted anyone else would notice him dressing down. He pulled on his bulkiest hoodie and then traipsed down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The food that Vespa and Jet had prepared together looked delicious: eggs, bacon, sausage and toast. On any other day, Juno would have torn into it. He desperately wanted to do so today as well, but instead he forced himself to resist, poking at it and pushing it around in the hopes of making it look like he was eating without actually doing so.

His subterfuge was a failure, however. Nureyev noticed immediately. “Juno, dear, what’s wrong? Something not to your taste?”

“I’m…just not hungry,” Juno said, but the moment the words left his mouth, his stomach let out a loud growl of protest. _Goddammit, stomach. Way to give me away._

Nureyev raised an eyebrow at him. “…Juno?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Temporary…wave of nausea, I guess. I feel better now. I’ll eat.”

And eat he did, the entire plate, and it was delicious. He tried not to feel horribly guilty after.

It was a quiet day, and they spent most of it on the couch in the stream room. Juno looked through some data on their upcoming heist, while Nureyev reviewed their findings from the previous one on his computer pad. He was stretched out across Juno like a cat, his long, lithe form pressed against him as he idly scrolled.

Juno worried, sometimes, about Nureyev. He knew the man’s shape was likely just the result of genetics and a fast metabolism, but it did make him nervous that he could count every one of the thief’s ribs when he stretched. He knew it bothered Buddy too, if the way she heaped Nureyev’s plate a little higher whenever it was her turn to serve dinner was any indication. Right now, though, Juno was nervous about it for another reason.

_God, I must look huge next to him._

It had been bad enough when one of the only factors that distinguished him from his identical twin was that he was the chubbier one. Always being next to a stick insect like Nureyev…well, it didn’t exactly help hide how stocky he’d become.

Nureyev yawned, flashing his pointed teeth, and turned off his computer. He put it aside and settled against Juno’s torso, letting his eyes drift shut. Juno placed a hand on his hair, stroking it gently.

Usually Juno lived for moments like this: instances of quiet intimacy where Nureyev allowed himself to be so close and so vulnerable. Ones where he used Juno like a pillow. Right now, though, Juno just felt vaguely embarrassed by the way the thief’s head was resting against his belly, so much softer now than it had been when they had first met. Had Nureyev noticed? He couldn’t not have, right? He was just too considerate to say anything.

Juno sighed and tried to focus on work again.

He couldn’t keep wearing sweatpants forever.

Even those were getting tight now, too. He’d tried to cut down on his meals, but it didn’t seem to do any good. It was like his body had spent so many years not getting the proper nutrients that now that it had been allowed them, it was determined to store them all. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

The last straw was when he put on his old HCPD Academy t-shirt, the one he’d been wearing for twenty years and had originally used as a sleep shirt because it was too big for him, and found he had to keep pulling it down as it was determined to ride up and show his happy trail to the world every time he moved.

He emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Nureyev…I think I need new clothes.”

Nureyev’s eyes lit up as soon as he said it. “Oh, Juno, those are words I never thought I’d hear. You’re absolutely right. All your old clothes are so tasteless and full of holes. I’d be happy to pick out some new outfits-”

Juno cleared his throat. “That’s not why.”

Nureyev frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I need new clothes because none of mine fit anymore.”

“…Ah.”

Juno tried to ignore how hot his face was burning. He hated this, hated having to say anything about it out loud. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. I know it’s obvious. I’ve probably gained forty pounds since I first got on the Carte Blanche.”

Nureyev hesitated, clearly milling over what to say. “Sometimes that’s part of recovery, Juno. Your medication has weight gain as a side effect, correct?”

“It’s not just that. I’ve been eating a lot more, too. Before I’d forget or feel too tired to eat, or like I…I didn’t deserve to, but now I eat all the time. Feels like I never stop eating.”

“That’s a good thing, Juno. Your previous eating habits weren’t healthy. These ones are.”

“Even if they make me look like this?” Juno gestured at himself.

“Like what, Juno? Like a very handsome lady?”

“I look weird next to you. I know I do. And…it’s not like I look great with my shirt off.”

Nureyev stared at him like the words coming out of his mouth were the ramblings of a madman. “What on earth do you mean? Of course you look great with your shirt off. I’d rip it off you now if I thought we had the time before today’s family meeting.”

“You really don’t…mind?” Juno found it somewhat hard to believe. Nureyev hadn’t signed up for this new version of him, hadn’t fallen in love with _this_ Juno. This person who was happier, but also so weepy and vulnerable and took up so much _space._

“Of course I don’t mind. Really, I rather like it,” Nureyev said. “You know how cold I get, Juno. You’re like a personal space heater. Being with you, touching you…it makes me feel warm. Safe. That feeling is only amplified if there’s more of you to touch.”

“I’m so…different, though.”

Nureyev was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “I see you now. I see how…bright and happy you are, and how much healing you’ve done, and it…makes me so, so glad. I look at you, and I feel like this is what you were always meant to be. You haven’t changed, you’ve just become what you always should have been, if the world and your mind hadn’t been against you.”

“I was always meant to be fat,” Juno mumbled sardonically, wiping the snot from his nose.

Nureyev chuckled. “Maybe you were, and that’s okay. It’s more than okay.”

“God, I don’t deserve you.”

“You know, often I’m inclined to believe it’s the other way around. But…that’s wrong, too. You deserve me, and I deserve you. We deserve each other. And you know what else you deserve?”

“What?”

“An entirely new wardrobe,” Nureyev said decisively. “I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to pick out new clothes for you for months. Come on. Finish getting dressed and let’s go do some shopping.”

Juno shook his head in disbelief, but obliged, feeling suddenly very warm inside. He’d been so afraid, so certain that if he ever found happiness that it would have to come with a catch. This wasn’t a catch, though, was it? It was more than worth it.

Nureyev unraveled himself from their blankets and hopped out of bed so that he could start getting ready, too, and Juno saw him shiver as his sharp limbs were exposed to the cool air of the ship. Juno walked over to him and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. Nureyev let out a quiet moan of contentment, pressing himself against Juno like his touch was the only thing he’d ever need to protect himself from the cold of the world.

No, this wasn’t a catch. If anything, Juno decided, it was a feature.


End file.
